Fortune Favors the Bold
by aidyr
Summary: (This is a sequel to Serendipity.) First dates are exciting, huh? Three and Eight have finally acted on the romantic tension between them and are ready to test the waters. Here's hoping for a good first date and many more to come. - Also posted on AO3 -
1. Let the First Date Commence

Eight looked herself up and down in the mirror. It was about time to go, and she had spent at least thirty minutes tediously inspecting herself for any flaw. She knew Three didn't need or necessarily want any extraordinary effort from her, but she couldn't help it. She really wanted to look nice. She was about to go on a date for Cod sake! With Three! That still gave her an indescribable fuzzy feeling in her chest, even hours after they'd agreed to go out together.

She craned her neck to get a look at the clock hung up in the corner. It read 8:36 PM. They had agreed to leave at 8:30 so… she should probably hurry up.

Giving herself the once over a couple more times, Eight finally decided she was content with her appearance. She was wearing the extremely adorable pink Octo-satin jacket and short beanie Marina had been so kind as to buy her. Eight didn't have much money, so being the unofficial adoptive daughter of pop stars was rather nice. Of course, Eight loved those two for reasons far beyond their money but… she wasn't going to complain about the money. Not if her jacket had anything to say about it.

In the wise words of Agent 3, "Marina and Pearl are mom-types with no kid to spend their ludicrous amounts of money on, so Eight, who's all but their literal fucking child, gets the royal treatment." And thank goodness, because Eight's outfit was really cute and she wanted nothing less for her first date with Three.

Wait… 'first date'…? She hadn't even considered the possibility of more to come. Obviously, she knew second dates happened sometimes, and maybe even thirds and fourths, but that all felt so alien. If this went well… could something more happen between them? Could they become more serious? How serious? Holy shit now Eight was just standing there, spinning her wheels, imagining all the countless possibilities.

Looking back up at her reflection, she noted the copious amount of ink rushing to her face.

Taking a deep breath, Eight turned and made her way out of her room. It was a short yet intimidating walk to the living room. You'd think their sweet little interaction earlier would be enough to quell any lingering doubt, but she couldn't help it. She was a bit nervous.

Luckily, and none too surprisingly, Three was already ready and waiting. Eight greeted her with a bashful smile. "Hey Three, you ready to… oh…You look cute!" The octoling beamed at the ensemble Three had put together. Toni Kensa Longcuff Sweater, a clean pair of jeans, grey sneakers and a black FishFry Bandana tied around her head. As expected of the inkling, it wasn't anything fancy. But it did suit her quite well.

As did the cute green blush which quickly colored her pale cheeks.

"I… uh…" Three opened and closed her mouth several times but nothing besides awkward mumbling managed to crawl out. "Y-you uh… you too…"

It took an incredible amount of willpower to not tease the poor thing. She was reeeeaaally adorable, and Eight wanted nothing more than to capitalize on that. But she wouldn't, because she was a good friend.

Friend?

…

Girlfriend?

No, they weren't dating yet. They were just testing the waters. Hmmm…. Why was romance so complicated? Well, whatever. Point is, Three was a cutie and Eight wasn't going to say anything because she was nice.

"Thanks, Three." Eight gave the inkling a small, appreciative smile. "So, are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, for sure." Three had her arms ridged against her sides, while her feet shuffled awkwardly against the carpet. "Uh… anywhere you wanted to go?"

Eight hummed absentmindedly as she thought. The previous night, she'd spent quite a while imagining the ideal date. In the end, she hadn't decided an anything and resolved to cross the bridge when she came to it. "I hadn't anything in mind," Eight replied. "How about… the mall? Arowana?"

The look Three made in response said everything she was thinking and more, yet still, she decided to vocalize her opinions. "Eight, malls are an amalgamation of everything wrong with the world."

"What… does that even mean?"

In what way, shape, or form was the mall everything wrong with the world? Because there was a lot wrong with the world. And though Eight may have been relatively new to the surface, she was fairly certain shopping with friends wasn't what society needed to fix before all else.

A hand was placed on Eight's shoulder, and the look Three wore was comparable to the face of a parent explaining to their child for the first time an unfortunate reality of the world they live in. In this instance, the reality was Eight being tricked into participating in the soulless, corporate scheming and frivolous insecurity exploitation that name brands and the cosmetics industry practically got off on. "Poor sweet octopus," Three chimed satirically, "so new to the surface and already you're blind to the moral ambiguity shopping centers rely on to survive."

"So… do you not want to go to the mall?"

Three blinked. "Huh? N-no," she quickly amended. "We can go wherever. Don't mind me I just… like to complain I guess."

Not like Eight minded, she thought it was endearing. "It's alright, Three. What would you like to do while we're out? Eat something? Clothes shopping?"

The groan Three emitted in response was a pained and guttural sound; much like a dying whale. "I think I'd rather fucking fling myself into the ocean than play dress up."

"That's… dark." Eight timidly observed.

"Dressing up is just… not for me." Three explained. "Being… _cute_ doesn't suit me." She gestured toward the outfit she picked out for their date. "I-I mean like… I know you said I was a minute ago but… eh."

Eight didn't even know what to say to that. Sometimes Three said or did things which Eight perceived as mildly concerning. Preferring watery demise over wearing a cute outfit being one of those things. Besides… whether or not Three agreed, she was definitely cute. If not cute, then at least attractive. Though knowing how Three felt about her scars… It was unlikely they'd agree on that front either. Unfortunate though that was.

"Three, there's a lot I could say, but I honestly don't know where to start. So let's just say _I_ think you're cute and leave it there." Eight took Three's hand gently within her own and offered a sincere little grin, "I want to buy you a cute outfit. Is that okay? Only if you're fine with it." Of course, as previously stated, Eight thought what Three was currently wearing suited her pretty nicely. But this was about the principle.

"I…" The older agent looked extremely conflicted. "Well… I guess. Fuck it." She looked somewhat uneasy about the notion, but at least she'd agreed. Though Eight firmly decided to keep in mind that if Three was actually miserable, they'd stop and do something else. They were gonna have fun today, damn it! She refused to have this date be a trainwreck. The second Three became legitimately uncomfortable, she'd abort mission.

"Sweet!" Eight, without a moment's thought, gave Three a short, sweet kiss on the cheek. "I promise to find you something you'll like, alright?"

"I… Uh… Yep." Three nodded along, rendered temporarily stunned by the sudden show of affection. Eight was equal parts amused and confused by this. Between the last several little kisses they had shared, you'd think such a simple gesture wouldn't fluster her so much but… any opportunity to see Three all green faced was an opportunity the octoling was willing to take.

"Awesome," Eight chimed. Her tentacles swayed joyously and the light honey glow on her cheeks emphasized her nervous excitement. "Ready to go, then?"

Three spoke with a tiny little grin of her own. "Sure. Let's get going."

Seconds later, the inkling opened the held the door for her Octarian date, who gleefully skipped outside. Leaving their shared apartment, Eight couldn't resist the urge to link her arm around Three's own. It made it harder to walk, and Three seemed surprised by it, but there was no protest. Thank the stars too, because Three was really really warm. It was nice.

Destination in mind, the two began to make their way to the train station. They'd be at Arowana in no time, and hopefully it'd be the start of a fun night.


	2. Clothes Shopping

As expected, it didn't take long at all for the pair to arrive at Arowana mall. Within twenty minutes of leaving the house, they were already surrounded by gaggles of teenage inklings, sub par food stalls, expensive-ass makeup and clothing, and all the disgusting public restrooms you could ever hope for. Suffice to say, Three could think of better places to spend her time. But… Eight seemed really happy to be here so… she'd swallow the pill and deal with it. Sappy as it might sound, it all totally worth it to see her chipper smile.

"So Three!" Eight bounced on her toes, excitedly pointing to the various shops surrounding them, "where do you wanna go? What kinda clothes do you think you'd hate wearing the least?"

That was a difficult question… Should she answer truthfully or say what would make Eight the happiest? Fuck, dates are hard… "Uh… you mean other than the boring shit I usually wear? Uh… I dunno… Old Navy? Maybe you could convince me to wear something from Hot Tropical?"

Eight hummed and assessed the situation. "Nah. I've seen some of Pearl's secret Hot Tropical stuff they're… not your style."

Three made a mental note to never ever let Eight know about her middle school emo phase. Yup, that was never seeing the light of day.

"So, you wanna go to Old Navy then?"

Eight answered with a simple though enthusiastic thumbs up. Marina had actually taught her that gesture a few weeks ago, and she's been having a blast being able to use it. Apparently giving a thumbs up didn't exist within Octarian society?

"Alrighty then," Three shrugged. "Lead the way, Eight." The inkling never came to the mall, so she didn't actually know where anything was. There were maps here and there, but Cod knows those are a pain in the ass to read. She kind of had to hope Eight knew her way around well enough to lead their date. And… wow, for some reason acknowledging this as a date made Three's hearts skip a beat. Just this morning she was super jumping away from her feelings and now, hours later, she was on a legitimate date with the most lovable cephalopod Inkopolis had to offer? Weird how life worked out that way.

She should really thank Pearl… She hadn't done that yet. Maybe after they got home she'd—

Just then, Three's phone vibrated. Speak of the devil, it turned out to be a text from none other than the petit MC herself. Wait… how the fuck did Pearl have her phone number? Had Eight given it to her? Granted Three was planning on getting Pearl's contacts anyways, since she had requested they keep in touch but… what the fuck?

"Oh? Who's that?" Eight caught sight of Three squinting suspiciously at her phone, and was no doubt curious as to why the device had earned such a skeptical glare from the older agent.

"Your mom." Three answered with a hint of amusement in her voice.

"My mo—?... Hey! They are not my moms!" Though they both knew Eight and everyone else saw them as such.

Three scoffed and shot the octoling an infuriatingly smug grin. "Yeah right, and team Guac _didn't_ get its ass stomped by Salsa."

Eight rolled her eyes and playfully punched Three in the shoulder; her face was rife with faux exasperation. "Hush, you. Is it Marina or Pearl?"

"Pearl," Three replied. "Did you give her my number?"

The octoling shook her head no. "Not that I can recall?" Yeah that was… weird. This had Callie and Marie written all over it. Damn those two. You can't just give people's phone numbers out all willie nillie. Just wait, Three would give them a stern piece of her mind.

But she could worry about that later. For now, Three decided to see what the rapper was on about.

_Unknown Number: YO THREE! It's Pearl! Aka Inkopolis' best wingman, Aka, your guardian angel. How'd shit work out with Eight? Have you made out yet? Give me the deets!_

_Three: I'm tempted to block you until I figure how how the hell you got my number but… I did want to thank you anyways. So… thanks. For talking to me I mean._

_Three: I'm… actually on a date with her right now._

All the while, Three could feel Eight lingering over her shoulder, reading the conversation as it happened. That made Pearl's comment about making out more than a fair bit embarrassing but… oh well.

_Unknown number: Holy shit for real? Dude good job! Wait till I tell Reena._

_Unknown number: Well, don't let me distract you love birds. You'll have to tell me all about it later. And tell Eight I'm proud of her! I totally wingman-ed the fuck outta her situation too._

As sweet as that was, it was also a golden opportunity to be an unyielding smartass. "Mommy says she's proud of you," Three snarked without remorse. Of course, Eight had been reading the conversation so she saw Pearl's motherly praise.

"You're an ass," Eight giggled light heartedly. There was no offense in those words, if anything, they were nothing if not affectionate. This was only reinforced by Eight deciding to wrap her fingers around Three's. "I don't mind though." She assured warmly.

"Uh…" Three felt her cheeks getting hotter. It just wasn't fair how the octoling could do this to her. "G-good to know…"

Eight nodded and began to lead the inkling in an unknown direction. "Alright, come on you dork. We're buying you some stuff."

Three couldn't wait…

That was sarcastic.

* * *

Oh boy, Three hadn't been clothes shopping in several life times. She almost forgot the magnitude to which she hated it. Shit, people actually did this for fun? A far greater portion of inkling kind must've been unabashed masochists than Three had been lead to believe, because this was insane. She hadn't even tried anything on yet. But the whole atmosphere of the place was just… bleh.

"So…" Eight mused, her voice cheery and hopeful. "Have you seen anything that catches your eye?"

"Uh… I'm not sure…" Old Navy was as laid back a clothing store as you could get outside of the thrift shop - unsurprisingly, that being where Three usually got new clothes - yet still, everything seemed way out of her league.

Too cutesy, too mom-like, too formal, too revealing… ugh.

"Want me to pick something out for you?" The octoling offered hopefully. "Only if you're okay with that, y'know? I just…" Eight looked around the store, then back to Three with soft, caring eyes. "I think it'd be good for you to try something new once and awhile."

Honestly, Three didn't trust herself to pick anything on her own so… sure. Why not? "Yeah… Yeah, I guess that'd be cool… Just… don't pick anything too… I don't know."

"I think I get you." Eight nodded. "It'll suit you perfectly, I promise. Not that your current outfit doesn't. Like I said, you look cute today."

"Er… r-right. Alright then."

And with that, Eight skipped happily away towards one of the several clothing sections. Three couldn't for the life of her place why, but she felt… anxious? Like a little ball of nerves in her stomach was warning her not to step too far outside her comfort zone. She trusted Eight of course. But the fear that she'd come back with something terrible was there. Fucking hell, today had been a roller coaster of emotions. If Three were honest, it was actually fairly exhausting. No doubt she'd be sleeping like an infant that night.

It occurred to Three that she should've followed Eight, because now she was standing awkwardly by herself without anything to do. Well… shoot. Okay, well it was times such as these that her emergency earbuds came in handy. SashiMori had dropped a new album the other day, and she had yet to give it a listen. May as well listen to a track or two while awaiting Eight's return.

The inkling pulled out her beloved earbuds - they've saved her from boredom and obnoxious public transportation more times than she could count - and retrieved her phone from her pocket. She didn't expect to get through the entire album, but she needed something to pass the time, and music was her third favorite thing behind her Zapfish plushie and her sweet as hell hero's cape. Or… maybe her fourth favorite thing? Now that she had Eight in her life…? Ugh, that was sappy.

Time for tunes.

Or, it would be time for tunes were she not distracted by a text notification. She must've missed it while talking to Eight. Curious and with nothing better to do, Three opened the notification and… she'd been put into a group chat. Wonderful.

_Callie: Three! Omg Pearl told us you were on a date? How'd you land that? You grumpy little stinker I'm proud of you!_

_Marie: Seriously, I'm surprised. Either Agent 8 has low standards or you changed your personality overnight._

_Three: Fuck you too, Marie._

_Marie: You know I'm joking. I'm happy for you Three. Just try not to screw it up._

_Four: Damn Marie, you're cold. Have some faith in the girl._

_Marie: I have faith. But I've also known her longer than any of you. I know how she it._

_Unknown Number: Don't worry dude. I told you, I totally talked some sense into her. She and Eight will be on a one way trip to fucks-ville in no time._

_Unknown Number: PEARLIE_

So apparently Marina had her number now too. That's great. Ignoring the migraine she could feel forming after only a minute of participating in this clusterfuck group chat, Three went ahead and labeled Off the Hook's contacts as something other than "unknown number."

Three hoped to Zapfish and beyond Eight wasn't in this chat as well. The last thing she needed was to have Eight reading anything about them going to fucks-ville. Really Pearl, not that Three was one to talk, but have some tact will ya?

_Three: You're all insufferable_

_Callie: You know you love us 3_

_Three: Yeah right_

_Marie: You totally do. Why are you texting us anyways? Shouldn't you be with your girlfriend?_

_Three: She's not my girlfriend_

_Four: Right, and team pulp didn't totally kick non pulp's butt._

_Three: You shut your pulp loving ass up_

_Three: And she's picking out some clothes for me. I agreed to go shopping with her. I'm just killing time while I wait for her to come back._

_Callie: Wait, you're letting Eight pick out cute clothes for you? That's adorable!_

_Callie: If somewhat out of character :/_

_Three: Quiet you._

_Pearl: OOH Eight's picking out clothes for you! I have faith Marina and I have taught her well. Worry not, Three. You're gonna be the freshest squid in Inkopolis._

Oh Cod, Three hadn't even considered what influence Marina and Pearl might have in Eight's taste in clothing. Now she was more worried. Nobody should be taking fashion advice from someone who wears nothing but a leather bra every day.

Three was just getting ready to reply sarcastically and scathingly to Pearl's misplaced confidence in her own fashion sense, but then Eight came bounding around the corner with an armful of various garments. She rushed forth, and with a smile, shoved the clothes into Three's waiting arms.

"That was fast," the inkling duly noted.

"What can I say? I know what you like."

Three could only hope this proved true. She didn't want to put a damper on their outing by being all angsty and insecure. But on the other hand… she didn't want to walk around all day wearing something that made her want to die so…

"Well what are you waiting for? Go try it on!" Eight was practically pushing her towards the dressing rooms. And once again, her military strength was showing, and Three found it harder than expected to resist.

Seeing no choice but to comply, she huffily marched off into one of the dressing rooms. From the looks of it, Eight had only picked out one set of clothes. Three couldn't be more thankful for this. There was no greater punishment than trying on outfit after outfit for hours on end. She wouldn't wish it on her greatest enemy.

"I'll only be a minute," the inkling spoke with a forced smile. She watched Eight give another thumbs up, then disappeared behind the dressing room door.

First thing's first… gotta undress. Three hated undressing, especially in front of mirrors. She hated having to look at her wrecked body. Of course, she had grown accustomed to it, especially having to see her terribly fucked up face everyday. But… still…

Her clothes fell from her body, and just as expected, she couldn't keep from cringing at the sight of her many, many scars. Agent work certainly wasn't kind to you. It was a wonder Eight's skin was so soft and pretty… Given all her time in the Metro. Not that Three was unaware of the permanent markings etched into her back, but at least those were hidden from the world. They didn't line her arms and legs, and her face was as uniform and attractive as it ever was.

Three's ears twitched as she continued to stare at her reflection. The gross greenish-blue covering the right side of her face was the bane of her existence. She often prided herself on not giving a shit over her appearance, and loved making fun of those who lived for vanity. But at times like these, she acknowledged herself as a stupid hypocrite.

She hated how she looked.

Oh… whoops. She was tearing up. For the second time today… Damn it. She needed to stop that line of thinking before she got too lost in her own head. Time to try on some clothes.

First the pants. They were just black jeans. Much like the pants she already had on, not too loose, not too tight. Just a different color. So far so good. Then there was a hoodie/shirt combo. They came together and the tag read 'Splash Mob Shirt/Blue Hoodie.' Truly, someone knows how to name their clothing. Putting it on, it was… really comfortable, actually. Three wouldn't usually go near button ups but… the hoodie kind of made it work? Three would be lying to say she knew jack about clothes, but even she had to admit it looked kind of nice. Lastly, were the Piranha Moccasins shoes and the weird looking hat. The shoes were pretty standard, just some grey and orange sneakers. But the hat was a far cry from what she'd usually wear. The tag described it as a 'Skalop Patched Hat.' Gingerly, Three untied her bandana and replaced its presence on her head with the odd headgear. When she looked herself in the mirror she was…

Huh… Pleasantly surprised.

No doubt it was different than what she usually felt comfortable wearing. But it didn't look out of place on her body. Even the weird colorful hat, which in it of itself was at least five more colors than she usually wore on any given day. The amount of relief she felt upon seeing her completed outfit was immeasurable. Call her crazy for having such anxiety over this bullshit, she was glad Eight hadn't disappointed.

Speaking of Eight, the octoling was probably wondering what was taking so long. Three had said she'd only take a minute, not taking into account the time it would take for her to sit there and hate her body. So uh… yeah. Time to step out of the dressing room.

Why was she nervous? It's not as though Eight was going to say anything bad about the clothes that she herself had picked out. Damn stupid irrational brain, worrying over stupid nonsense.

Stealing one more glance in the mirror, Three shoved her hands into the hoodie pockets and made her way out to greet her lovely date. The Octarian had been waiting patiently by the stall from the looks of it, and she had her nose buried in her phone.

Three was about to grab her attention, when the flaming fuchsia blush the poor girl wore grabbed her attention. How peculiar, Three thought. Her curiosity was certainly piqued.

The inkling shuffled her way silently over to where Eight was standing, looking embarrassed about whatever was happening on her screen. Usually she wasn't so nosy, but if Eight was going to peer over her shoulder while on the phone then she could do the same. It didn't seem like the octoling had noticed Three's presence, which made sneaking a peak at her screen a lot easier.

And… it was the motherfucking group chat.

And apparently their idiot friends were still talking about the two of them fucking.

And now Three had been consumed by a blush to rival Eight's own.

And it was on that day Three swore, she'd punch all of them in the face at least once before the end of her life.

Damn it all.

"Er…" Well this was awkward. "Hey Eight?"

The surprised yelp Eight made was adorable and almost worth knowing the cause of her embarrassment. She spun around and shoved her phone so deep into her pockets, it was shock the seams didn't tear from sheer force of will. "Oh Three! U-uh, heya! You're back! Um… yes, s-so, the outfit? How is it? I hope you're like… into it. Yup."

How did it make Three feel to know Eight was more than likely flustered over less than pure thoughts? How did it make her chest flutter to know she was likely involved in these thoughts? No, really, because Three had no idea. She could feel her brain imploding, and her last surviving brain cells struggling to comprehend anything that had happened the past 12 hours or so.

"Oh uh… yeah the clothes…" Three muttered, her attention drifting between paying attention to Eight and the thought of drop kicking everyone she'd ever considered a friend. "They're… actually pretty good."

All of a sudden, like a switch had been flipped, the bashful, flushed look on Eight's face disappeared and was replaced with energy and delight. "Really? You mean it? You like it? Because I like it a lot. You look super… uh… fresh? That's the word, right?"

Three returned Eight's generous smile. This girl was far too precious. "Yes Eight. We inklings love being fresh."

"Well you're fresh as heck!"

"Thanks, you too I guess." Three honestly couldn't recall the last time she or anyone else had thought she was "fresh." That word wasn't generally the first descriptor which came to mind when referring to the gruff and brooding inkling. And as dumb as the adjective was, it was genuinely nice to hear as a compliment. Especially coming from Eight.

"Here, hurry up and change back. I'll buy the stuff." Eight began to shove Three hurriedly back into the dressing room.

"What? Like hell you are. Let me pay for it." Three hadn't been the one to propose the date, she hadn't picked their location, she didn't know her way around. The least she could do to not feel useless was to pay for the clothes that she herself would be wearing.

"No ma'am, I have Marina and Pearl monies and I'm going to use it. Besides, you didn't even want to buy clothes. This one is on me! Now get changed!"

The inkling didn't even have time to respond before she was flung back into the stall with a door slammed shut in her face. Never before had she met someone more stubborn than herself, and she wasn't sure how to feel about it. But whatever. She was in here now, may as well change back. As nice as it was to wear something both new and comfortable for once, the familiarity of her usual clothing was easy to miss.

But she vowed to wear her new outfit the next time she and Eight went out anywhere.

* * *

The two walked hand in hand throughout the mall, looking for something else to do. Three had tried again to argue her way into paying for her own outfit, but Eight had been victorious in the end, and the inkling had gained a complementary pile of brand new clothes.

"So, what's next?" Eight hummed, her peach eyes searching for their next destination. "I want you to choose something."

"Oh… um…" Three shrugged. Not to appear apathetic, but just to show she wasn't used to this sort of thing. "I dunno. You can pick again, I don't mind."

Eight shook her head a stern no, and turned to face the inkling. "What do you do for fun?"

Fun? Shit… um…. Three didn't have many hobbies. Between agent work and helping Eight adjust to surface life, she didn't have much free time. She liked music, but it's not as though they could pack up and haul ass to a concert without planning. Turf wars were fun, but not exactly a date activity. Hm… Video games? Sure, let's go with that.

"How about an arcade?" Three suggested. "Those are pretty fun."

"What's an arcade?"

Three stopped. She looked at Eight. Utter disbelief. Sure, she knew the Octarians didn't exactly live in the best conditions but… no arcades? What even were their childhoods? That settled it. They were going to an arcade right now.

"Sounds like we've got our next course of action." Three grinned. "We're getting you into an arcade, stat."

"Oh… okay? I take it arcades are something I should know about?"

"Not necessarily. But my entire childhood was spent in an arcade and it bums me out that you never had that."

"Oh…" Eight paused, looking deep in thought. "Well alrighty. Let's go to an arcade, then."

And so, their date continued onward. Thus far it had been… really, really nice, Three noted. As was the feeling of Eight leaning up against her. Never in her entire life had she appreciated physical contact like she did whenever Eight was around.

It'd be really cool, Three thought, if the future had more of this in store.


	3. Octo Kong, Rigged Games and Douchebags

Three hadn't been messing around while talking up arcades. So many lights and sounds! Eight hadn't felt so mesmerized since first arriving in Inkopolis. Around them were hoards of prepubescent squiddos and dorky adults alike, and among those dorks, was Three nerding out over some sort of machine. Eight didn't know what she was on about, or why it garnered such reaction from the inkling. But it was fun to watch, so she didn't mind.

"Eight Holy shit, there's a new Octo Kong game! When did that happen? And not like those dumb modern side scrolling platformer games. Like, legitimate Octo Kong!"

Eight watched in amazement as Three's eyes lit up like stars. Had she ever seen Three this excited about anything ever…? Hm… no, not that she could recall. No wait—! There was this one time when she had gotten all hype and emotional over some kiddie show about magic blasts and girls in frilly skirts. Eight didn't remember much about it, but she did remember Three telling her with a deadly glare that it was a genre for true intellectuals.

"I don't know what you're talking about, but I'm glad you're excited." Eight smiled at Three's unfiltered enthusiasm. It was rare to see her so passionate, and it was really nice.

"It's uh…" Three cleared her throat and chuckled softly. She looked embarrassed, and attempting to gather herself, but Eight could tell by the way her green eyes kept darting between herself and the machine, that she was far from over it. "Octo Kong was my shit back in the day," she began to explain. Her face showed a the sort of nostalgia you only see when a jaded adult remembers a highlight of their youth. "I didn't have the best home life, y'see? So I'd hang out at the arcade whenever I could and spent what money I had." Then, with a toothy grin and an extraordinary amount of pride, the agent proclaimed, "I kicked ass at Octo Kong. Not a single kid on the block had a chance against me. I was the crowned Octo Kong champion."

"Huh…" Eight had to admit, her interest had been piqued. "How do you play?"

Never had the city of Inkopolis seen Three so animated about anything. "I'm glad you asked." She grabbed Eight by the hand, and practically dragged her in front of the screen. "So," she eagerly began, looking between the machine, Eight, and back again. "There's this big, mean Octarian guy, right?"

"Er… Right?"

Well this was off the wonderful start already, wasn't it?

"Hey, I know how it sounds." Three explained, "It's an old franchise. And you know how speciesist old shit can be."

"I guess…?"

"Anyways, moving on," Three continued, now motioning towards the controls. "Your goal is to dodge the barrels he throws at you and climb the platforms to save your girlfriend. This moves, this is jump, you can pick up ultra stamps and stuff like this, and you only have a handful of lives. Wanna give it a try?"

Beyond the weird feeling which came from playing a game about a poor inkling damsel being kidnapped and held hostage by a hulkish Octarian brute… It looked fun! Eight got situated and went over Three's instructions a couple more times in her head. It seemed fairly simple. She had operated far more complex devices in the past.

"You ready?" Three held up a couple 10 G coins and hovered patiently over the coin slot. "I must warn you, I plan on playing a bit to. And not to brag but I'm pretty damn good at this. Don't feel bad when you're miserably shown up."

"Not to brag?" Eight giggled, "That sounded awful bragg-y to me, Three."

"That's not a word," The inkling haughtily informed, all while slipping the coins into the game. "The word you're looking for is braggadocios."

"That's the most uppity sounding word I've ever heard."

"Shut up and prepare to be destroyed by the Octo Kong champion."

* * *

"Well that was fun!"

"Shut the fuck up."

Hey so apparently Eight was amazing at Octo Kong. Who knew? Three had her score beaten five times and now she was being all sulky, grumpy, and cute. It was great.

"Aw, don't be like that Three." Eight wrapped her arms idly around Three and hugged the sourpuss for all she was worth. "It's not your fault you picked a fight with the best Octo Kong player ever."

Never had Eight witnessed such intense conflict play out on someone's face. The internal struggle was a violent one; did Three appreciate and enjoy the hug? Or did she want to punch the _braggadocios_ young octoling in the face? It turned out to be - luckily - more the former than the latter. Because no punching occured, but she did turn a becoming shade of green. "Whatever," Three grumbled. "Good job I fucking guess."

She had her arms crossed, her ears flicked downward, and an icy tone to her voice. But there was the faintest hint of a smile pulling at the inkling's lips, and Eight was nothing if not perceptive. Three was having a good time, and that made Eight unbelievably happy. They both deserved to have some fun and… well, given how her first attempt to ask her fellow agent out had gone… yikes. She was glad this was working out.

"Thank you Three," Eight smiled, arms still wrapped snug around the her date's neck. "So what now? Any other games you recommend?"

Three squinted and scanned the room, looking much like a predator scouting its next meal. "Well… most of the stuff at arcades nowadays are ticket games and claw machines. Arcades used to have more like the game we just played."

"Is that bad?"

Three shrugged - as best she could given the octo-girl hanging around her neck - "Not necessarily? I mean, old arcades are the best kind of arcades. But I think you'll have fun either way. Besides, tickets can win you prizes."

"Oooh, I see." The surface got more interesting by the day. She could get actual physical things in exchange for playing games? That was amazing!

"I know what you're thinking," Three spoke up in a warning voice. "Games cost money. The amount you spend to play the games far exceeds the value any of the prizes have."

Oh well that was… dumb.

"That's dumb."

Three smirked, her voice charmed and amused, "Yeah I guess. But getting a shit load of tickets feels pretty sweet. Every kid in a ten mile radius will stare at you with wide, envious little eyes when you come walking by with armloads of tickets."

"Yeah?" Eight raised her eyebrows and looked at Three confusedly. "You don't seem like the type to crave the admiration of children."

"Yeah no, children can fuck themselves. I just like feeling superior."

"Well at least you're honest." Eight chuckled and finally released her cordial hold around Three. "Show me how to win some tickets then. I'm sure you're better at all this than I am."

Three huffed, and once more held her sour expression, "I _thought_ I'd be better Octo Kong too but…" She sighed, then nodded and began to walk in one of many possible directions. "C'mon then. Let's win you some stuff. A lot of these games are rigged, but sometimes you can outsmart them."

Ignoring the possible grey area of scamming rigged arcade machines, regardless of them themselves being scams, Eight was excited to play more games. Octo Kong was super fun, and even if the prizes were just a ploy to make you spend more money, she wanted to win something nonetheless. Damn money making schemes successfully tricking her into spending her money.

Or… Three's money, technically.

Since she'd bought Three her clothing, the inkling had insisted on their way here that she would be paying for the games. Which was fair, Eight supposed.

They walked a bit longer and wow, this place was really rather large. She hadn't been expecting it to be so big and crowded. It seems lots of people agreed with Three's humble opinion that arcades were fun places to hang out. Eight looked on in wonderment as they stopped in front of a glass container holding what appeared to be lots of random items suspended by string. Each item had a hole in front of it, wherein a key, located at the bottom left of the machine, would likely be inserted.

"Arcade knowledge 101, this game is rigged straight to hell." Three explained. "It's not a game of skill, it's a game of luck. But I know how this shit operates, so I'm gonna tell you a little secret."

Eight had never seen the game before, obviously. But she could guess how it worked. There was a button that said up and joystick which read left/right. Using deductive reasoning, one could easily conclude that you were meant to move the key so it went into the keyhole— presumably, earning you a prize. "Do tell," Eight replied, honestly curious to hear Three's knowledge of all things rigged-keyhole-game.

"Okay so you wanna get the key in the hole, right? And when you do, the prize falls out, yeah?"

"Okay," Eight nodded along, eagerly taking in all the wisdom Three was dropping.

"But the machine is set up to not let you win. Of course, its illegal to make it literally impossible. But they do want to turn out a profit. So here's how this works…" Three inserted a few coins into the machine. Some silly, dinky sounding music began to play, and the game instructed them to try their best. Three concentrated on lining the key up with a hole. She was remarkably focused, her aim seemed flawless, and as expected of someone who aimed chargers for a living, her hand was still as stone. When she released the button however, the key just barely missed.

She was so close though! Now, that was pretty impressive, Eight had to admit. Especially if these were designed to make you lose.

"I see you over there looking impressed." Apparently the octoling was very easy to read. "Don't be. They make it do that so you think you've almost won, so you spend more money to try again."

What the…? Arcades were far more thefty and nefarious than she had been led to believe…

"You see how it got stuck on the top like that?" And yes, the key had in fact gotten stuck right on the top of the hole. "That means the machine won't be letting us win for a while. See, the key doesn't stop right when you let go of the button. It keeps going up until you'll definitely hit the top of the hole. Unless that is, you're close to the payout rate set by the operator. To keep the game from being technically illegal, they make it impossible to win every so many plays until they've got enough money, but after those plays, a prize is obtainable."

It was a wonder Three knew so much about this particular game in such immaculate detail… Eight could imagine the inkling angrily trying for hours, until finally giving up, ink boiling, and retreating to the internet to figure out how she kept losing.

"If you're getting close to the payout limit, that being the number of tries set before the machine lets you win, the key will probably start getting stuck on the bottom of the hole. If that happens, you may be a few tries away from winning something. Given you have better aim than a clash blaster main."

"So what you're saying is…"

"This machine won't let us win anything. Not today, at least."

Oh… well that sucked. Why feel the need to explain the ins and outs of this game if not because they were going to get something out of it? Maybe to spare her hours of futilely attempting victory? To end the octoling's inevitable suffering before it began?

"But I'll tell you what we _can_ definitely win, right now." A wicked, dangerous look flashed across the inkling's eyes. Her fangs bared themselves in a smug and scheming smile. She then pulled something from her back pocket— a magnet. She turned and walked a couple steps to the right, so she was now facing a different container. This one held a myriad of soft plushie toys. "Pick your prize, Eight. Something up against the glass."

Oh… so they were definitely about to straight up cheat, right? Was that allowed? She didn't particularly feel like being banned from any establishments today. But… those toys were really cute… She lifted her finger to point at a small, green, angry looking squid plush.

What? It reminded her of Three…

Shut up.

Eight watched as Three checked her surroundings; she was making sure there wouldn't be any witnesses. Then, she observed as the inkling pressed the magnet to the glass. There was a metal chain attached to the tag, most likely so you could attach it to a bag or whatever. This allowed her to effortlessly pull a prize up and over. Seconds later, Three was retrieving the small plush out of the machine and handing it to Eight.

"And that," the apparent thief began, "is how you win any claw machine where metal is involved."

The plush was adorable and she'd be sure to treasure it forever but… "Do you… always carry a magnet with you? For the express purpose of stealing toys out of claw machines?"

At this, she got merely a scoff in reply. "No comment."

Oh Three… never change.

"Anywho, enjoy the plushie I guess. I gotta run to the bathroom real here for me… or don't… either way. Brb."

"Oh... alright! Hurry back."

Eight watched her date turn around and jog off, presumably in the direction of a bathroom. She didn't have any coins to play games with, nor did she know where anything was, so she couldn't really do much. And… wait is this how Three felt when she left her behind at the clothing store? Whoops. Eight made a note to not do that again, because now she was stuck standing around doing nothing. How boring.

Deciding it'd probably be best to stay put, making it easier for Three to find her upon return, Eight figured she'd pull out her phone and kill some time on it while waiting. Her mind drifted back to her Inkstagram conversation with Pearl the prior night, and entertained the idea of seeing what her favorite rapper was up to. Or maybe she could play one of the cheesy little mobile games she had installed?

Hm… what to do, what to do…

While thinking about it, she almost missed the approach of two younger looking inklings. One had longish orange tentacles, and the other shorter blue. They walked with hyperbolic confidence, and definitely thought they looked fresh doing so. They… seemed off? Something about those smiles gave her the heebie jeebies… Should she ignore them? Admittedly, she wasn't yet confident in her ability to talk to those who weren't already her friends. Should she walk away? Oh wait, they were standing next to her now, okay that's fine.

"Hey there," one of the boys greeted. They both appeared maybe a year or two younger than Eight, and they both looked like the kinds of people Three tended to hate.

"Uh… hello?" Eight lowered her phone and tentatively gave the two adolescents her attention. "How can I help you?"

"Actually, we were wondering if one of us could help _you_." Spoke the other young man.

"I… what?" Was it normal in Inkopolis to randomly approach strangers and ask if they required favors? Three still had a lot to teach her about inkling culture, it'd seem. "I'm not sure? Why do you ask?"

The blue one smiled so hard, his tentacles swayed with the motion. "Why do we ask? Well… you're kinda hot, did you know that?"

Oh?

Oh.

_Oh._

So that's what was happening here… uh… abort mission, code red, Three please hurry up and come back. How does one even deal with situations like this?

"I… thanks?" It was a compliment, right?

"You're welcome. I've never been with an octo before," he grinned. And yeah… Eight could see why Three hated his type. His smile was very punchable. "Have you ever gotten with an inkling?"

Hm… Did Three count? Could she say yes? They weren't officially like… a thing or anything. But maybe that would end this conversation? Hopefully? Please?

"Uh… y-yes?" Eight cringed at her awkwardness. She was not equipped to handle being hit on by puberty-ridden teens. "I-I mean… I have a girlfriend…" She knew that was technically a lie, but it kind of just came out that way.

"Oh?" The orange one raised an eyebrow curiously. "Do you think you'd ever want to be with a guy?"

Well if she were being honest, it's not like she was completely against the idea of males but like… she just said she had a girlfriend? Take a hint, damn it. "I don't know? Uh… I should probably be going though… I need to… go to the bathroom."

"Aw come on." Wow they were persistent… "Is your girlfriend here? Bet she isn't as hot as you."

Wow okay. First of all, Three was probably the hottest cephalopod on the planet. Second of all… Eight really wanted to leave… "She's… y-yeah she's here."

"Where is she then?"

"Right behind you, fucker."

Eight and the two boys turned in surprise to find a very homicidal looking agent 3 standing behind them. Her fangs shone through her snarl, and frankly, she hadn't looked so scary since that time years ago when Eight had fought her. It was a moment from their past neither liked to think about. But the orange and blue ink of their violent battle remained lodged in the depths of their memories. Suffice to say, Eight didn't particularly care for Three when she was… like _this_.

But apparently the teenagers had no fear of death, because neither seemed impressed nor frightened. "Oh, you? Huh… No offense, but octo girl over here is kinda out of your league."

Three chuckled lowly. Though she sounded far from amused. "I wholeheartedly agree. She's too good for me. But if you asshats think you've got a chance in hell, you have another thing coming."

"Oh yeah?" Orange guy crossed his arms, and smirked. "Like what?"

"A broken nose." Three growled. Judging by the boys' reactions, they thought she was bluffing. But Eight knew that look… Maybe she should try and deescalate this situation… "You're obviously making her uncomfortable," Three continued, "do yourselves a favor and fuck off."

"Why don't you make us?"

"Careful what you wish for little man." Three took a couple steps forward, eyes narrowed and pissed.

"Okay!" Eight jumped in, standing firmly between her now righteously enraged date, and the pair of douchey young flirts. "Three, settle down. It's fine, alright? No harm done."

Three didn't say anything. Instead she just looked at Eight with an expression the octoling really couldn't place.

"Yeah, listen to your girlfriend you crazy bitch." The two, likely realizing they wouldn't be hooking up with any octolings tonight, turned and hurriedly scurried away. Probably to find a different pretty girl to hit on. Eight was relieved no uncomfortable flirting or impending murder was happening anymore. She had to wonder if those two had ever successfully picked up a girl like that… But moreover, she needed to make sure Three wasn't going to splat them when they least expected it.

With the obnoxious teenagers gone, Eight fixed Three with an expectant gaze. She wanted to know why in Zapfish's name she'd gone into inner-agent mode. Sure they were a out of line, but it's not as though they deserved Three's violent wrath. "Hey Three…?"

Still no response. The inkling instead just quietly averted eye contact. Okay so… their date may have hit a bit of a roadblock here… Which was too bad, really. The night had been going so well. She tried once more to prompt a response from the angry little ball of rage. "Three. Come on, what's gotten into you?"

The inkling shrugged. Not the response Eight had been hoping for but… it was something. She pulled out her phone to check the time. It was now approaching 10:00. It was getting kind of late… Sighing, the octoling pulled Three into a lazy half hug. Her arms draping gently over her shoulder. "Okay, don't talk if you don't want. Do you… wanna go home? It's getting a little late."

At this, Three nodded. Before looking at Eight with vaguely apologetic eyes. Finally, she spoke. "Yeah… sure I guess."

"Want to put on a movie when we get home? Keep this party rolling?"

Three nodded gently.

Okay well… time to go home, Eight guessed. She wanted Three to know she wasn't mad at her for whatever that just was. But she didn't know what to say. It had been a while since she'd seen Three so…y'know. They'd probably be talking about this later but for now… best to just quietly head home.

Those boys should count their blessings that Eight was a pacifist at heart. Because Three no doubt would've taken their asses down.


	4. Train Ride

Ever have that sinking, unsettled feeling in your gut that shit was about to fit the fan? Knowing that a conversation you didn't want to have was just over the horizon? Well Three was very full— literally brimming even, with this feeling. Why were emotions such crap? She wholly blamed her emotions for putting a damper on their evening. Over the urge to splat a couple of horny teenagers no less. And like, yeah, they were assholes. But you can't go around threatening to break kids' noses. It just wasn't good form.

The two had now boarded one of Inkopolis' mainline trains, and were on their way back to their apartment. Three remembered Eight's first day on the surface and how utterly against riding the trains she was. It would've seemed quirky or amusing to anyone who didn't know what hell she'd been through. Now though, after several months of working with her, getting her accustomed to the surface, Eight could comfortably nap on public transport. She wasn't without her scars of course, she was still terrified of curling bombs. But Three felt immense pride when she looked over to find Eight dozing peacefully next to her, despite the rattling of the train against the tracks.

She really was just… too perfect for words. Eight's unrivaled adorableness didn't completely get rid of the anxiety welling inside the older agent, but at least it helped distract her.

Three figured a movie and going to bed wouldn't be the only thing happening once they got home. Eight would probably wonder why she had lashed out like she did. And that… oh boy. That was a minefield Three didn't particularly care to traverse. Then again, the octoling was never one to pry too much. Maybe she'd forget that the inkling had been two seconds away from punching children? To be fair though, Eight had been on a date with her this evening, not their dumbasses. It was fine to be a little protective, right? Or was it possessive?

Oh, that got Three thinking… damn it, whenever Three got thinking, she usually regretted it. But whatever, let's ponder this, for real. She and Eight had kissed. Er… Well, they had pecked each other on the lips a couple times. They went on a date. They had fun (not including brief fits of scar anxiety and/or nearly assaulting teenagers.) And Eight had said she was... her girlfriend.

That gave Three intense butterflies. The inkling was terrible at this sort of thing, and throwing the "gf" word around didn't help. Obviously the poor girl had only said that to get Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb to keep their splat chargers in their shorts, but was it wrong for Three to hope otherwise?

They weren't a "thing." Not officially, at least. So she had no business losing her cool like that, right? Even if they were obnoxious, Eight could handle herself. If you can survive the DeepSea Metro, you can survive some awkward social interaction. She was being ridiculous, angry and… _controlling_.

"No. Fuck no." Three whispered hushly to herself, "I'm… _not_ like her."

But saying something was one thing. Believing was another.

She really needed to pull herself together. Firmly pinching the bridge of her nose, she took a couple deep breaths and tired to think about literally anything else. What was something good to think about? How about Eight? Yeah, that was perfect. Let's stop thinking about dubiously regarded figures from the past and pay more attention to how Eight's tentacles gently swayed in her slumber. Or how her lips parted ever so slightly with each soft exhale. Or the light, barely noticeable dusting of ink in her cheeks.

The day must've really caught up with her, huh? Not that this was shocking. Their day had been awfully action packed. Plus Three was somewhat under the impression she hadn't gotten much sleep the prior night. That coupled with the incident that morning and their date, no doubt the octoling was more than tuckered out. It occurred to Three that she should ask around and see if their friends knew how to help with nightmares. It hadn't evaded her attention that Eight woke up in cold sweat some nights. Maybe she could consult with Callie and Marie. She vaguely remembered something about Callie having night trouble after all that brainwashing business. Hm… she'd keep that in mind.

Anyways, it was about time to get up. They'd be getting off at the next stop, and apparently had a movie to watch. Though given how tired Eight might be and how apprehensive Three was to have a serious chat, maybe they could bypass the movie just sleep for the night. Cod knows Three needed the rest.

But if of course, Eight wanted to watch a movie, then Three would. Regardless of exhaustion or hesitance.

Anything to make Eight happy.

The inkling turned, and after staring a minute longer at Eight's resting face, she began to nudge her elbow into the octoling's side. "Eight, wake up," she spoke softly, "we're almost home."

Eight groaned, her body shifting around lazily. Her eyes peaked open, and they were full of post-nap haze. She hummed, and turned to bury herself into Three's shoulder. Whether or not she was aware that Three's hearts all skipped a beat was unsure. "How close are we?" She sighed, and Three could only fluster when she felt Eight's warm breath tickle her neck.

"U-Uh like… a couple minutes from our stop."

Eight nodded in acknowledgement, but didn't say anything. Was that good or bad? Well, she seemed happy to be nuzzling up against the inkling so her silence wasn't bad most likely. Perhaps she just didn't have much to say?

A couple minutes of silence pass before a harmonic ding came over the intercom, so as to indicate their stop. The noise had always seemed soothing to Three for a reason she herself couldn't place. It was just a really nice sound? She stood up and stretched, before beginning to exit the vehicle. She came to a quick halt however when she realized Eight wasn't following suit. Turning, she gave the Octarian a curious, confused look. "Um Eight? We gotta get off."

The amused smirk Eight made was at once adorable and worrying. She lifted her arms and like a small, spoiled child spoke, "Carry me."

"The fuck? No?" Three's cheeks heated once more. She could feel a couple fellow passengers eyeing them curiously, though honestly he found herself more concerned about the soon closing doors. "You can walk."

"Pretty please Three?"

"No."

"With a cherry on top?"

"…No."

Eight batted her eyelashes pleadingly, and it was then that Three knew she had lost. And aside from the alluring look Eight was shooting her, they'd probably miss their stop if she continued to stand her ground.

"I… ugh. Fucking fine. But turn into an octopus first. It'll be easier."

The satisfied feeling of victory was plain as day on Eight's face, and within seconds, the tall, tan, muscular octo-girl had shifted into a small, squishy, fuchsia octopus. Giving an insincere huff of annoyance, Three lifted her date into her arms. She was gentle but quick in her procurement of the troublesome young octoling. If she didn't hurry, the doors would definitely close and they'd be forced to walk to their house from the next stop.

"Why are you so clingy all of a sudden?" It was kind of a rhetorical question since A) Eight couldn't exactly talk as an octopus, and B) Three didn't really mind. But she often liked to complain about any sort of effort.

In response to Three's grumblings, Eight merely settled more firmly into the agent's hold. She was cute even as an octopus. What kind of nonsense was that? Three didn't even like how she looked as an inkling, much less a slimy, angry looking squid. Now this just wasn't fair.

"You comfy there?" Three mumbled, stepping off the train. She couldn't deny the pleasant feeling which came with cradling Eight in her arms. But that said, she couldn't help but wonder why she had asked to be carried. Surely she wasn't that tired, right? Because if that were the case, maybe they really should skip the movie. It was funny how incapable of understanding simple affection Three was.

But whatever. Time to go home. The tail end of their evening had been… _something_, that was for sure. And Three still heard the taunting voice in the back of her head telling her she had been acting like a certain somebody she preferred not to think about. But she did her best to quell those thoughts. She had all the time in the world to feel terrible later. For now, she just wanted to enjoy her time with Eight.

Hopefully the rest of their night would be calm and enjoyable for all parties involved.


	5. Kissing Your Troubles Away

Three's taste in movies was something Eight found herself incredibly interested in. Five minutes of digging through the collection of DVDs, the inkling - who was patiently waiting on the couch for Eight to make a decision - had suggested they simply stream something if nothing caught her eye. But it was fascinating to see what sorts of films Three had gone out of her way to buy. Eight didn't know many inkling movies yet, but let's see… Lots of John Dory Bond, some of those weird animated ones including Ghost Shark in the Shell, Battle Angelfish, Manatee Magica: Rebellion, and Magical Girl Lyrical Nautilus. It was interesting how all the animated stuff Three owned was either a techno, sci-fi dealie, or cute girls with magic sticks. John Dory aside, there were plenty of other spy flicks. Squids in Black, Anchovy Powers, and Mission Inkpossible included.

Inkpossible? Really? Ugh. Eight sighed with deep and unparalleled disappointment. The surface film industry had a really bad pun problem, it'd seem. They could've at least tried with that one.

Lots of Sci-fi, some more animated works, a couple of B horror movies, so on and so forth.

None of these really called out to her. But it was nice to know what Three liked. She had a clear fondness for spies, animation, and sci-fi. Funny that in months of living with the woman, there was still so much she didn't know about her.

"How about this?" Eight grabbed something which looked remarkably different from all the other options. It was called Blue is The Warmest Ink. The cover didn't look nearly as badass as most the other DVDs in Three's stash; two inkling girls looking affectionately at one another. Plus one them was a really cute, blue squid girl. And never let it be said that Eight would pass up cute inkling girls.

"Absolutely not." Had Three meant to sound firm and authoritative there, she definitely failed. The clear embarrassment forming on her face made it hard to take the veto seriously.

"Aw, why not?" Eight pouted. She knew pouting was her secret weapon against Three. It worked every time. "It looks cute."

"That… is one word to describe it…" The inkling glanced to the side, deliberation and consideration creating an interesting facial expression. "I didn't even buy that. Marie bought it for me, cause that's the kind of person she is."

"Is it that bad?" Whatever Three's problem with this movie was, she wasn't doing a great job articulating it. Besides, if she really hated it then she would've thrown it out, right? This smelled suspicious.

"It's not it's just… It's so… like… I don't know." Three took a deep, frustrated breath. "There's a reason it's NC-17."

"I have no idea what that means."

"It's not appropriate."

Not appro—? Three! You're talking to a former Octarian military operative. She survived the DeepSea Metro, and all its ghoulish tortures. She saved the world for Cod sake! She could handle "inappropriate content," whatever that entailed. If the horrific things she'd seen in the past hadn't been enough to break her, what the heck was a movie gonna do? Was it _that_ bad? Because now Eight's curiosity had only been intensified.

"Three, I think I can handle it."

She looked unsure. Or… rather than unsure, more deeply bashful. Three turning bright green would never cease to be incredibly amusing. But that said, it wouldn't do any good to have the poor girl feeling uncomfortable. Ugh. She'd have to watch it on her own time, Eight decided. "Fine, we don't have to watch it."

The relief on the squid girl's face was immeasurable. She looked so elated. "Oh thank fuck." She clutched her chest as though she'd just run a marathon. "Seriously that gets… er… raunchy."

"Okay…" Ignoring any implication there, Eight turned back to the pile of DVDs. "Well, what do you want to do? We can watch anything you own, I don't mind. Or we could do that streaming thing."

Three grinned, swinging her legs off the edge of the couch, then pulling herself up. "You sure? Cause there are a few movies in there I'll never get tired of watching."

"Go for it," Eight replied with her own carefree smile. "Just make it good."

"Damn right it's gonna be good."

Eight watched as her roommate trudged over and kneeled down beside her. She dug through the stack of disks with what could either be described as hype or levity. When she found what she'd been looking for, she pushed it towards Eight and… she was smirking an awful lot… that was worrisome.

Eight took the case in her hands and read the title with great uncertainty. "Birdemic, Shock and Terror. Who will Survive?" No bad puns in the title— well… no fish related puns at least. Was 'birdemic' even a pun? Hm… whatever. "Is it a horror movie? I'm not super big on horror. Reminds me of some stuff, y'know?" Eight tried to sound nonchalant, but her nervous laughter probably gave her away. Sure, she may have said that they could watch anything Three wanted. But really she was hoping nothing scary was on the itinerary.

"This? Scary?" That managed to get a giggle out of Three. And wow, her giggle was super cute.

What?

It was.

Hush.

Three placed a hand on Eight's shoulder and shook her head in amusement. "I promise it's not scary. Now hop up on the couch, I'll put it in. It's pretty short, but don't worry about falling asleep. You seemed tired earlier."

Actually, yeah, she was fairly tired. Between not sleeping last night, and all the chaos which ensued throughout the day, sleep sounded pretty appealing. But if it was a short movie, she could manage.

Getting up and moving to the couch, Eight plopped unceremoniously onto the soft cushions. She watched Three insert the disk into some kind of device and click the TV on. What came up was an extremely underwhelming title screen.

"You ready for a life changing experience?" Three went to sit next to Eight, also allowing herself to fall into the welcoming comf of her old, worn out couch.

"I guess?"

"Excellent."

* * *

Okay so… they were about 20 minutes into it now. "Is this… good by inkling standards?"

"Eight," Three began, absolutely appalled, "this movie is a masterpiece. It's won several awards, has a dedicated following, and features numerous highly sought acting talents."

"I… You're kidding." She had to be kidding. Eight was amazed, no, horrified. Was this seriously the epitome of inkling entertainment? No wonder their go-to pass time was painting the floor, this was dreadful.

"Yeah, I'm kidding. This movie is literally the shittiest thing ever."

"Oh…" Was she relieved or annoyed? "Wait, then why are we watching it?"

"This is what you'd call, 'so bad its good.' It's when something is so lamentably awful, that it's fun to watch."

"Oh well, alright I guess." Eight didn't really get it, but it couldn't hurt to give it more of a chance, right? "Let me get comfortable real quick, then we can go back to watching." If this mess was an hour and a half long, at least she was going to feel comfy while watching it. At first, her idea had been to grab a pillow and lay her head on the armrest, but a better, much more enticing idea came to mind. Shifting her weight, Eight started by laying herself vertical across Three's lap. Her head rested nicely on the inkling's thighs, her body curling in on itself.

"U-um… Whatcha doing there?" Three stammered, her green eyes growing wide at the octoling now resting on top of her. Her hands held awkwardly in the air, hovering atop Eight's body like she was suddenly afraid to touch the girl cuddling up to her.

"Getting comfortable." Eight replied very matter-of-factly. And like… she just said that's what she was gonna do right? Goodness, Three could be pretty dense, couldn't she?

"Y-yeah but…"

Eight turned over to lay on her back, looking up at her date. Or… were they still on a date? Could you be on a date at home? Whatever. "You sure get embarrassed easily, huh?"

In response, she got a tense chuckle. "I'm just…" Three's eyes flickered cautiously down to meet Eight's, "I'm not used to this sort of thing. All this romance shit. I've never really… done it before."

The sound of poorly made bird movies became white noise as Eight's attention was turned to Three. The inkling's ears were beginning to curl back, something biologically unique to their species. It was a telltale sign of distress, much like the nervous twitching of an octoling's tentacles. "Three are you… Do you want me to get off you?" Truthfully, she was hoping the answer was no. She liked being close.

"N-no it's fine. I'm just… being stupid I fucking guess."

"Hey." Eight hoisted herself up on her elbows, bringing their faces closer. Three was quick to flush timidly, but Eight was too focused on stopping that train of thought be flustered. "You're not stupid."

"Eight—"

A clawed finger was rose up to point accusingly at the inkling's chest. "How come you're always so quick to talk down on yourself?"

Pointed ears continued to flick meekly backwards, and Three couldn't do much but shrug. "I-I don't know… Um… Hey, why don't we get back to the movie, huh?"

Eight gnawed impatiently at her lower lip. No way was she about to drop this. This conversation had honestly been a long time coming. "The movie won't be any fun if you're going to sit here and hate yourself the whole time."

"I…" Three opened and closed her mouth several times over, looking for something to say. When she found nothing, she settled on staring awkwardly at one of their dull, undecorated walls.

"Three, look at me." When the inkling didn't move to do just that, Eight let out a soft breath and got up to get a better look at her fellow agent. Rather than getting off of her though, Eight sat up and turned in such a way that had her essentially straddling the anxious squid girl. She brought a hand up to nudge Three's face towards her, hoping dearly for some eye contact. "Three look… I like you a lot. And it really sucks to know how much you dislike yourself. You're not very discreet about it, you know?"

The longest uncomfortable silence in recent memory passed between them. At this point, the sound from the TV had completely faded into silence. She could see the light of the screen illuminating the room around them, but the noise was falling on deaf ears. Right now, she was only listening to Three, she was only waiting for her to say something. Anything at all.

When nothing came, Eight frowned.

"I…"

Oh wait, she was about to say something. Three had Eight's undivided attention.

"I… I'm just… shit hang on…" Three lifted a hand to clear the moisture forming in her eyes. "T-that's… fuck, this is the third time today I've gotten all teary…"

Eight blinked. Really? That was just… wow, okay. Nobody and especially not Three deserved to be reduced to tears multiple times in a single day. Was this everyday for her? Had Eight simply not noticed? So many questions, so many concerns began to infest the octoling's racing mind.

The feeling of Three shifting underneath her snapped her quickly away from her thoughts. Turns out crying wasn't something Three was keen on doing in the company of others, because her cheeks shone with bright and ashamed green blush. Usually Eight would fawn over Three's ink filled cheeks… she'd find it adorable how quickly her face went up in flame… But right now, it only gave her a sad, sinking feeling. You shouldn't feel ashamed of your emotions.

"Y-you're… too good for m-me…" Three's voice had begun to waver, her gaze refusing to go anywhere near Eight's own.

"What? N-no Three…" She had said that earlier at the arcade too, right? This was a sentiment the octoling couldn't even begin to wrap her head around. Three was amazing. At least she thought so… Her green ink was such a pretty shade, her gruff way of speaking and acting was endlessly endearing and refreshing. She was brave, and awesome and funny and… someone Eight was glad to have in her life. It was weird to think that only a few years ago, the two had been bitter enemies. It wasn't personal of course, they were only doing their jobs. But that fight hadn't been pretty, that was for sure. Now here they were, living together, sitting together, Three's facade coming down and Eight trying to offer console. She had known for a while that the battle hardened, stone cold, badass Three liked to be was make believe; that in reality the inkling was fragile. But that didn't mean she liked seeing Three upset.

"It's t-true though…" Three tried and failed to force a timorous, pathetic little whimper out of her voice. "I'm such a piece of shit and you're…" Shaking hands motioned toward Eight, who was at a complete loss for words. She hadn't ever seen Three like this. "You're just so good. I-I don't understand how you would like someone like me."

"Three, are you…?"

"N-no, sorry." Three interrupted Eight mid question with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I… damn, I'm really good at fucking up the mood, huh?" She made a sound which could only be described as an unappealing combination of a forced chuckle and a sorrowful groan. "As if losing my shit at the arcade hadn't been enough, now I'm throwing a pity party while we should be watching a dumb movie."

"The arcade? Are you still thinking about that?" Eight used her sleeve to wipe away the wetness which had started to trickle down Three's cheeks. "I'm not upset about that. I mean… yeah, you threatening to break their faces was a bit much. But I really did appreciate the intervention."

"You don't get it." Three mumbled. "I was out of line. Acting all aggro, thinking you can't take care of yourself. Cod I…" Her voice began to trail off into something hardly decipherable. "I'm was acting like _her_." She whispered numbly.

_Her_? Eight cocked a confused brow. "Who is '_her_' and what does she have to do with us?"

Three's entire face visibly blanched a couple shades lighter. And that was nothing if not concerning. Additionally, her ears had renewed their folded in position, though now with much more ferocity, and her foot had begun an anxious tapping against the carpet floors below them.

"Hey," Eight placed a hand idly against Three's cheek. "You don't have to tell me if you really don't want. Just… maybe it'll feel nice to get it off your chest? You're like… Really iffy about emotions and stuff."

Three managed a stifled giggle. There was still and air of sadness, but it was a start. "I guess I said that aloud, huh?" Closing her eyes, Three let her head rest limply against the back of the sofa. Eight was still sitting on her lap, so any further movement would prove difficult. "I guess… it wouldn't hurt to tell you a tiny bit… maybe…"

That didn't sound too enthusiastic though… damn it, was Eight coercing the her into divulging personal info against her will? Hopefully not. That'd be… yikes. That wouldn't be a good thing to do.

"A-again," Eight urgently reiterated, her hands frantically emoting as she repeated her assurance that spilling the beans wasn't necessary. "You don't _have_ to talk."

"Yeah I know." There was a long, tired sounding sigh. It was like years worth of air finally being released from a strained balloon, desperate to pop. "I'm gonna say some shit though. Just bare with me. I haven't… told anyone this before."

Hm… Eight felt… kind of honored? Having Agent 3 of all people open up about a sensitive subject was certainly a show of great trust. Should she feel accomplished? Was that shallow? Selfish? Eight didn't know, and she tried not to care.

"So," Three began, twiddling her thumbs. "I have this aunt, right?"

"Oh. Right?" If there was one thing Three never talked about, it was family. This was off to an interesting start already.

"She's a bitch."

Okay. Okay that got a small snicker to escape the octoling's beak. Not like she hadn't ever heard Three call someone a bitch before. But it was always kinda funny.

"What?" Three's mouth tightened to form a tiny, sincere, little grin. "She totally is." Seeing Three smile, even during a conversation such as this, lifted a hefty weight off Eight's shoulders.

"I'll take your word for it," Eight mused, nudging Three playfully on the shoulder. "Though I'm curious to know what made her such a… er… a bitch." She winced at her hesitance to utter the profanity. 'Damn' and the occasional 'ass' had become fairly frequent additions to her vocabulary. But she did try to refrain from Three or Pearl levels of crudity.

"Did you just say the B-word?" The inkling once again managed to crack a small smile. "I'm a good bad influence on you."

Three had such a nice smile.

Too bad the world didn't get to see it more often.

"Whatever." Eight rolled her eyes in a airy and well-meaning manner. "For real though, what's she got to do with… well, anything? I mean this in the best way possible Three, but I was kind of hoping our date could happen without any dumb past trauma sneaking up on us. We deserve a break." Was that too harsh? She didn't want it to sound like she was upset or disappointed in any way. But the truthful ideal for tonight would've been a lot more laid back with a lot less drama.

"Well… How to put this delicately?" There was a brief and unreadable expression Three made which piqued the octoling's interest. It was sort of pensive, somewhat agitated, and every confusing emotion in between. "She was… not the best aunt ever. Beyond being a bitch. She wasn't a good person either."

"Oh… like…?" Eight could feel her gut tightening with sneaking realization. Surely she didn't mean…

"She was a controlling, bastard woman. My parents died in an accident when I was really young. So I was living with her for most my childhood." Three's discomfort had only begun to grow more obvious. The constant nervous fidgeting and pulled back ears spoke volumes. "A-and uh… she wouldn't let me do jack shit unless it benefited her. She'd talk for me, make friends for me. The only person my age I used to hang out with was her friend's son, and he was a real dick."

"Did…" Eight was afraid to ask. Her arms found themselves idle on Three's shoulders, her eyes expressed considerable unease. "Did she… hurt you ever?" She grimaced at the question like it stung to say. In a way, it did. Like a bullet through any one of her hearts.

There was a pause. A heavy, dreadful tension filled the space around them. But thanks to the look on Three's face, for better or for worse, Eight knew the answer before it was spoken.

"S-sometimes… Yeah."

In all her years walking the planet, Eight hadn't ever wanted to shove an octo shot down someone's throat as badly as she wanted to now. At least, not that she could recall. Granted her pre-metro memories remained blurry and half-formed. But it was hard to believe she'd ever felt such burning indignation or detest towards anyone in the past. She hadn't even hated C.Q. Cumber this much, and he had literally blown her up several times. Not even Tartar - though to say she didn't hate his robo guts would be a lie - even when he had very nearly grinded her to a pulp. But knowing that someone had hurt Three, so fundamentally, at such a young age… It burned her up. It boiled her ink.

"Uh…" Three's voice came as a stutter. "You okay over there? You're looking awfully … tense."

"You can't act like you didn't just reveal some messed up stuff, Three." Eight sighed. Her breath was coming out short and frustrated. Despite her frustrations though, there was something she wanted, no, needed to make abundantly clear. "You said you were acting like her. You… You know you're nothing like her, right?"

"You don't know that… Anything can happen."

No, that wasn't going to do. Not at all. "I don't really know her, Three. But I know you. I know that she hurt you, and I know she's probably part of why you're so… guarded. Maybe not all the reason, I mean, your job can get kinda hairy too."

The inkling answered with a mirthless eye roll. "Understatement of the fucking century."

"Hey," Eight spoke scoldingly, "I'm not done." She placed a clawed hand fondly on Three's cheek and ran her thumb soothingly over the pale skin. She was actually surprised by how willing Three had been about all the huggy feely physicality these past several minutes, but she wasn't complaining. Her hand wasn't shrugged away and that was a good sign. Hell, she was still like… sitting on top of her, but Three didn't seem to mind. "What I'm saying is… I don't think you're like her. I don't care if you think that's naive. You're not like her and I don't think you'll ever be. You won't hurt me."

They were at a standstill. Three didn't look wholly convinced but she also looked far too stunned to voice her disagreement. Eight was running out of ways to say the same thing. That she thought Three was perfect, that she was trustworthy, that she was smart and attractive and wouldn't ever, not in a million years, become even remotely like the aunt Eight had just learned about. How could the octoling prove how much she cared for her? How much she meant to her? How much she trusted her? How much she…

How much she _loved_ her…

An idea came to mind. It was a little bit out there but… well… fortune favors the bold, right?

Without giving herself a chance to back down, Eight took a deep and concentrated breath.

And brought her lips to meet Three's.

It wasn't anything like their previous two kisses. Those were simple pecks on the lips. This was so much more. A surprised, muffled noise slipped from Three's throat followed by a low sound of enjoyment. Two pairs of eyes fluttered close and two sets arms wrapped protectively around one another. Thank the stars her advance hadn't been rejected. Eight was momentarily worried she'd be pushed away, making everything infinitely more awkward and terrible. But all seemed to be going well. Three felt incredibly warm. Eight's rosy tentacles swayed happily, her hearts beating faster each second their kiss lasted. There was an intense, unbelievable burst of heat in her chest. It was weird. But very, very good.

There was no way of telling how long they stayed like that. Every so often they'd break apart for a breath of air, though soon they'd come back for more. It was an intoxicating feeling, for their bodies to be so close together. A lot had happened today. And maybe they were moving a bit too fast. But honestly? Eight couldn't find it within herself to care. This was amazing and she wouldn't trade it for the world.

All good things must come to an end eventually though. Much to the lovestruck octo-girls' dismay. Her breathing had started to get caught in her throat and she found her mouth growing tired. Not wanting this to end, but also not wanting her lips to fall off, she decided to stop for the time being. Hopefully there'd be more of that to come…

When she pulled away, Three looked positively struck. Her mouth remained partially agape, her face was more green than flesh tone and there was a certain sparkle in her gaze which only appeared on the faces of those who've just had a life changing experience.

It was super cute, suffice to say.

"Well…" Eight started with a sheepish giggle. She could feel how warm she was, face included. No doubt her blush fared no better than Three's own. "That was a thing."

"Er… Y-yes… Yeah, t-that was uh… fuck…" Three was smiling but looked more astounded than anything. "Holy s-shit…" She touched her lips, apparently her brain had run into a malfunction of sorts. "Uh… that was… n-nice… Will there be… like… more of that? Sometime?"

Yes. Yes. Absolutely yes. No amount of _yes_ could adequately convey Eight's willingness to do that again.

"F-for sure." Eight spoke with a soft, coy grin. "I'd love to."

Three nodded, took a deep breath, and groaned. "You're going to be the death of me, I swear."

Was that… was that good? Uh… "Like… in a good way?" Eight tried gingerly.

"In the best possible way." Three replied with surprising tenderness.

Well that was good. For a second there Eight had been worried. But hey, that kiss was pretty nice, right? Yeah, that was definitely going down as one of her favorite moments ever. Now then… "Did that uh… make you feel better though? A little bit?"

Three's ears perked up. "The kiss? Uh… Well, it was pretty fucking nice. I-I mean… I'm still not thrilled about the arcade or, y'know, myself in general. But for now… I am feeling a little bit better. Thanks."

Well that was as good an answer as any, right? It's not like Eight had expected a kiss to whisk all of Three's insecurities away. But at least she was feeling better for the time being. Wouldn't it be nice if kisses could cure sadness? In a perfect world, they totally could.

"But um… Eight?"

"Hm?" The octoling hummed, "What's up?"

"Could you get off of me? My legs are asleep."

Oh… Oh right. She'd been putting her entire body weight on the inkling's lap for a while now. "O-oh yeah! Of course, sorry." Eight shuffled off of her roommate and rolled onto the other end of the couch. "My bad."

"It's cool." Three answered lightly. "I don't suppose you wanted to keep watching this bullshit movie, did you?"

Oh right, the movie. They'd kinda been interrupted. What was even happening now? She hadn't been paying attention at all. Eight turned to the screen, which was well into playing this poor excuse for a production. There were now a few characters she didn't recognize and it looked like the birds had finally decided to show up. They were horrendously rendered 3D atrocities.

"Those are the worst special effects I've ever seen…" How could anything even be this bad? It didn't make sense.

"Oh I know. It's a fucking garbage fire. Wanna watch something else?"

Eight had been tempted to say yes but… now that they were settling down, the sleep deprivation was starting to set in. What time was it? "Eh… How about we just finish this? It has to be getting late."

"Yeah, that's fair."

They both went to look back towards their TV, but Eight had a wonderful idea come to mind. "Heeeey Three," the octoling chimed gaily. Before the inkling had time to even start a response, she'd already been grabbed by the arm and yanked into a lying position. The allegedly hardcore professional SBS agent yelped as she was dragged down into the cushions next to the ever cuddly cephalopod she had the fortune knowing. Once having successfully captured the squid of her affections, Eight gave a cheeky smile and hugged the girl tight. "Lay with me."

"I… I uh…" Once more, Eight was delighted to find Three flustered by her actions. It'd never get old. "I… Fucking— ugh, fine. Why not?" Oh Three, you could try to sound disinterested all you want, but you'll always be incredibly transparent.

Satisfied by Three's compliance, Eight got herself situated. A couple minutes of shifting around and finally she found herself lying comfortably with her back against Three's stomach; a pair of strong arms laced themselves nicely around her torso. She sighed contently and let her body sink into both the furniture and the person next to her.

"Comfy there?" Three asked. The smirk was evident in her voice.

"Never better."

The next few minutes were spent trying to watch the movie. But really, it all became a blur. Sleep was moving in and Eight hadn't any power to stop it. Despite the loud cries of poorly animated birds on screen, the last sound known to Eight before she drifted to the land of dreams was the steady beating of Three's hearts. This time last night, she had been gearing up for a night of restless slumber. But now, with such a pleasant warmth surrounding her, she fell into the most peaceful sleep she'd ever had.


	6. The Morning After

Holy shit.

Those words were the only thing Three could think upon waking up. Picture this: You're not a morning person. In fact, mornings could suck a dick for all you cared. A whole bag of em'. Your eyelids peak open and groggily you take in the world around you. You feel something warm and pleasant next to you. You haven't yet comprehended that you're not in bed, but rather, on your rickety sofa. Deciding to investigate the oddly pleasant warmth next to you, you look down. And what do you find? A gorgeous octoling nuzzling into your neck like a sleepy Lil Judd? Then, picture, that a sudden onslaught, a merciless bombardment of memories come rushing back to you. Including but not limited to, going on a hectic though ultimately successful(?) date, nearly drop kicking children, bawling your eyes out, spilling deep dark childhood secrets and a heated make out with said octoling.

Yeah. Three might've been having a mini malfunction. As she sat and recalled the prior day's happenings, she was left stumped. What now? When would Eight wake up and what would she say? Yesterday went well… probably. It seemed like it had gone well? The concept of things going well wasn't one Three was necessarily acquainted with, but if that kiss had meant anything then she didn't have too much to worry about, right?

Something the inkling had particular trouble coming to terms with was her little break down last night. She had cried like a lost child. Wonderful… fucking wonderful. She'd done far too much crying yesterday, and even more, too much of that shit in front of other people. First Pearl, then Eight. Thank cod she had pulled herself together before leaving the dressing room at the clothing store. Otherwise Eight would've had to see that as well. Not that the octoling hadn't seen plenty last night. Eight had gotten her to talk about her aunt… which was… weird… She didn't really regret it per say. Actually, it felt pretty nice to get off her chest. But historically, Three would've preferred strangling an unborn child to divulging her traumas. Yet there Eight was. Effortlessly getting her to let several cats out of their respective bags.

Oh and slightly unrelated…

Ugh. Everything hurt. A consequence of sleeping on the couch, Three supposed. Not that cuddling with Eight wasn't literally the best thing ever but like… fuck her back was killing her.

Three had a choice to make. Get up and stretch a bit? Or stay and avoid waking up sleeping beauty? Hmm Decisions, decisions…

Three's ears pricked to the sound of a content, sleepy hum. Eight's hand unconsciously roamed to rest comfortably around Three's waist and her lips dawned a peaceful little smile.

And fuck if that wasn't the cutest thing Three had seen in her entire life.

Damn, she was going to hate having to do this but seriously, her back might give out if she didn't get up.

Sighing with sincere dismay, Three began to nudge the sleeping octoling. It took a few tries, and honestly, each annoyed grunt Eight made at being disturbed pulled ardently at Three's hearts. This girl really was too good for her.

"Eight." Three whispered. "C'mon, my back is really fucking me up, you gotta move."

In response, Three got an incomprehensible tired mumble.

"Eight."

"Mmmrrgg…" The octoling's nose scrunched up in dissatisfaction as her peach orange eyes fluttered open. "Five'mor minutss…" She tried to wave a clawed hand dismissively and bury herself back into the softness of Three's chest. And as tempting as that was, Three had made up her mind about getting up.

"Eight, I'm going to get up so you're either gonna have to move or you're being pushed onto the floor."

Usually, Three's threats were something not to be scoffed at. When she said something, she meant it. Her warnings where legit and concise. But currently, she felt her conviction wavering. Pushing Eight onto the floor would probably feel like kicking a kitten, and she didn't know if she had the willpower for that.

"Ugh… Fiiiine."

But thankfully, that managed to do it.

Eight scooched away from the inkling - hesitantly and not without a hint of sadness - giving her the room she needed to sit up and stretch out.

The loud popping sounds coming from Three's back as she sat up were concerning given the lack of bones which could be cracked. That's how terrible the couch was for sleeping. Her boneless body popped like a rainmaker bubble. Hm. Maybe she should get that checked out…

That aside, sitting up felt good. She stretched her arms high over her head and gave a deep yawn. Looking down, she found Eight staring back at her with utmost affection. Which was… not something she was used to being looked at with. Was that sad? It kind of was. Whatever.

"So…" Three started slowly. "Last night huh? That was… a thing."

Eight chuckled lightly, still trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes. "Why yes. Yes it was."

"Did you… sleep well?" Three offered awkwardly.

"Best sleep in forever actually. Zero nightmares." Then, Eight added with a cheeky smile, "You're a good pillow."

"O-Oh, uh… Glad to hear it." For whatever dumb reason, Three could feel her nerves creeping back up on her. She'd never been in this situation before and didn't really know what to say or do. What even were they now? Were they dating? Were they still just testing things out?

"You're as adorably awkward as ever, I see." Eight sat up too, finally looking mostly awake and aware. She leaned into Three, sighing happily when her head hit the inkling's shoulder. "Can I… ask you something? It's probably a dumb question but I wanna check."

Certainly not any more dumb than anything Three's done in the past 24 hours. Remember yesterday when she literally motherfucking super jumped away from an innocent date invite? And almost got hit by a car? That was pretty dumb. The arcade? Three's decision to leave Blue is The Warmest Ink unhidden and mixed in with the rest of her movies? She had no room to judge.

"Uh… shoot." She prompted curiously.

"Are we… a thing? Like officially?"

Oh.

Oh shit.

Okay, game time. It was important that Three not screw this up. Thankfully Eight had been the one to pop the question, because no way would Three have worked up the courage. She may be a talented turfer, she may be X rank in all ranked modes (except Clam Blitz, but honestly fuck Clam Blitz.) And she may even secretly be a kickass SBS agent on the side. But if there's one thing she wasn't… she wasn't competent in the realm of relationships or emotions.

"Do you… want to be a thing?" Three replied, green ink bashfully sneaking its way into her cheeks. "I-I mean cause like… I sure as hell wouldn't mind that. But y'know… I can be kinda a mess."

Eight grinned at Three. "I don't mind that you're a mess. You're my favorite mess." Wow that was fucking cheesy. But it was sweet. It's the thought that counts. "I'd very much like you to be my girlfriend if that's okay with you…"

"I…" Three's hearts were hammering away in her chest. This was really about to happen. She couldn't believe this was actually something she was going to have. "I… would… y-yeah that sounds… awesome." The inkling glanced over towards Eight quite sheepishly. "Yes." She concluded. "I'd like that too."

Eight's eyes glowed like a goldie. "Really? Thank you Three!" She wrapped her arms around the inkling a squeezed. "I'm probably the happiest octoling in Inkopolis right now!" Eight was very quick to shake off morning drowsiness it'd seem. Because suddenly she was very high energy. "Can I kiss you?" She batted her eyelashes hopefully at Three.

"Uh? Yes? Do you even need to ask?" Truthfully, Three couldn't foresee a time or place where she wouldn't willingly accept a kiss from Eight.

At this, Eight giggled gleefully. Then, moved in for a quick morning kiss. It wasn't nearly as deep at the one from last night, though it did last longer than a peck. Three hummed gently against the octoling's lips for the few seconds their kiss lingered. Once Eight pulled away, the inkling surmised that she would never get tired of that. And uh… not to sound speciesist, but she never took Octarians for good kissers but… the universe likes to prove her wrong.

Not that she was complaining. In this specific instance at least.

"So…" Three said, turning to look at her _girlfriend_. Holy fuck that word felt good to think. She had a girlfriend now. It was going to take a while to comprehend that fact. "Are you hungry? Want any breakfast?"

"Oh! Waffles please!"

Of course it was waffles. Fuckin— ugh. Eight was amazing and beautiful and kind but she wasn't perfect. Three would never cease to be pissy about those Splatfest results. "Let me guess, do you want disgusting, pulpy ass orange juice to go with it you weirdo?"

"If you have any, that'd be great."

Blasphemy. Just… utter blasphemy.

"Gross."

"Just make me some food grumpy butt." Eight smiled playfully. She gave Three a quick kiss on the cheek, then hopped up off the couch. "I'm going to go tell Marina and Pearl that I have a girlfriend. If you need me, I'll be on the phone. Probably for a while. You know how they are."

The inkling scoffed. "Alright, go give your moms the big news. I'll make your dumbass breakfast."

"Yeah, yeah. Thank you Three." Eight gave Three a little wave and a thumbs up for good measure before disappearing into her bedroom.

Okay… time to make some food then. Three got up and made her way to the kitchen. Did she even have a waffle maker? Maybe someone gave her one for Squidmas or something, cause no way would she buy one herself. She certainly didn't have anything with pulp. Eight would have to make do with good OJ.

Three opened her fridge to begin her search for breakfast ingredients when she was faced with… literally nothing. Uh… whoops. She didn't have anything to make anything with.

Now that she was thinking about it… wasn't she supposed to have run some errands yesterday morning…? Yeah that definitely rung a bell. Among those errands was grocery shopping. But then Eight had asked her out and uh… yeah.

Well shit.

Well she'd been doing good in turf wars lately. It wouldn't hurt to eat out. They could go to a diner where Eight would be free to eat all the bumpy pancakes and chunky juice she desired. The reason she had needed to shop yesterday was that Callie and Marie had her booked for most the week after that. Including a mission later that day. But she'd surely find somewhere to squeeze in a shopping trip.

Whelp. That was settled. Three turned and walked her way back into the living room where she threw herself down on the couch once more.

With Eight off talking to Marina and Pearl, Three had some time to think. Life sure comes at you fast, huh? This was a lot of change in a very short period of time. Was it wise to jump into all this so quickly? Well… some might say no. But she had no reason to feel uneasy about it, really. And you know what they say; fortune favors the bold and all that.

Should she tell anyone? Callie and Marie came to mind. They'd be interested, for sure. But unlike Pearl and to a far lesser extent Marina, they hadn't really helped at all so… she wasn't in any rush to spread the news. They'd find out when they found out. There was also Agent 4 but she was… Hm…

Like, they were friends, Three guessed. But…

Yeah, she could wait too.

Three took a deep breath. This very well could be the start of a new chapter in her life. It was weird and kind of nerve wracking. But yes, it was also fairly exciting. She'd never in a million years admit it, but she's always wanted this kind of thing. But she'd long since accepted that it was likely never going to happen.

Yet here she was.

The inkling smiled. A genuine, happy, smile. It felt good to do. Sometimes she wished she could smile like that more often, but a reason never seemed to present itself. Something told her though that maybe, just maybe, that could change.

And that, was the most optimistic thought she'd had in what seemed like a decade.


End file.
